


B A D - E N D

by MLMDarkFiction



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Catholic Imagery, Cults, Demonic Possession, Demons, Dubious Consent, Holy Water Used As Lube, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, M/M, Mentioned Human Sacrifice, Mentioned Off Screen Character Deaths, Mild Blood, Porn With Plot, Religion Kink, Religious Cults, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Ritual Sex, crucifixion imagery, slight noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24273799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLMDarkFiction/pseuds/MLMDarkFiction
Summary: "There's something wrong with the cul-de-sac, and with Joseph. Robert knows this, and decides to take it upon himself to figure out exactly what."For someone on tumblr! I hope you like it!Please Read all the additional tags before reading
Relationships: Joseph Christiansen/Robert Small
Kudos: 37





	B A D - E N D

Robert knows there's something wrong in the cul-de-sac. He's known for a while now that something just isn't right. Whatever it is, he plans to get to the bottom of it. 

He has an idea of where to start. 

He has to start with Joseph Christiansen. 

Robert wasn't sure what made him assume Joseph was involved. 

Maybe it was their short-lived affair?

Maybe that was enough to completely poison any good feelings Robert had left for the man.

Or the distrust came from the more obvious evidence. 

A member of the community had gone missing. 

The man had no spouse, no children still young enough to live at home, and so when he eventually came missing there was no one to miss him. 

He was the perfect target. 

But the perfect target for what? Or for who? 

More damning, more reason for Robert to blame Joseph, was the fact he was the last person to be seen with the man. 

Of course the police investigated. They questioned Joseph, even searched his house, and his car, but they never found anything that linked him to the man who disappeared. 

There was no evidence. 

Nothing to hint at what became of the man. 

Eventually things returned to normal in the cul-de-sac, the house went back up for sale, and soon enough it was as if he'd never existed in the first place.

But Robert didn't forget. 

And...Like with most things in his life, Robert found himself not trusting the police or the fact they cleared Joseph. 

That's what led to his current predicament. 

"Robert?" 

Mary looks almost concerned to see him at her door sober, and he doesn't blame her. He came over with no prior notice, and no attempt to hide the serious expression on his face. 

He hadn't even told Mary that he suspected Joseph. 

One reason was for his clear lack of any proof or evidence. Without anything to back him up...He'd just sound like a mad man. 

The other reason was simply the fact that he was afraid. He and Mary were friends. He'd already betrayed her once by sleeping with Joseph, and...

As much as he doesn't want to think of it as a possibility, he knows their marriage is far from perfect. 

He's scared of what might happen, if he's right, and Mary confronts Joseph. 

Robert couldn't live to himself if anything happened to her and her kids. 

"Hey..." 

It's a bad response, one that does little to quell Mary's nerves, but it's the best he can offer her. 

She's still tense.

He's tense. 

"Is Joseph home?" 

"He's in the den..."

"Mind if I come in?"

"Robert-"

At first she doesn't answer, instead just staring at him, trying desperately to read his face. 

Truthfully, he wonders if she can tell how nervous he is. How afraid he is. 

"Robert," 

She repeats. 

"You would tell me wouldn't you? If something was wrong?" 

Mary trusts him. 

It makes Robert feel nausea from the guilt of it all, but he can't tell her. 

He's not stupid enough to make accusations without proof, especially not when Joseph's so near. 

And really, truthfully, more than anything else, Robert hopes he's wrong. 

He'd prefer in this instance to be nothing more than a paranoid old drunk who has so much time on his hands he's made up this whole thing. 

"Yeah." 

Robert finally responds, after a good moment of pause. 

"Of course I'd tell you." 

His answer is far from comforting, and what he says next puts the nail in the coffin for Mary's unease. 

"Maybe you should take the kids to the park, yeah?" 

"Yeah." Mary's voice is soft. It's clear in her face she doesn't believe Robert, and the fact that he's actively lying has only put her more on edge. 

Still she lets Robert inside all while calling out to her kids, and telling them to get ready to go to the park. 

Robert doesn't wait for them to leave though. As soon as he's allowed into the house, he goes to the den, goes to Joseph. 

He's there, just like Mary said he would be, a home made martini in his hand. 

Although Joseph seems genuinely surprised to see Robert of all people standing in the entryway. 

“Robert,” His eyes are wide, but...they quickly go back to normal, an attempt at a casual smile taking the youth pastors face.    
  
“I’m surprised to see you here,”

They don’t see each-other often.

Robert made sure of that. 

Even before he was suspicious of Joseph, the guilt alone was enough to make him stay away. 

The most he saw Joseph if ever was when the man just happened to be outside, or if he was making sure Mary got home alright after a night of drinking. 

And the latter usually ended with Robert flipping Joseph off as the other man helped his wife inside. 

“I’m surprised to be here.” He admits back, “I wanted to talk.” 

Although Joseph has a feeling he knows what all this is about, he knows better to assume, so instead he just plays courteous. 

“Would you like a drink, Robert?”

And despite himself, Robert accepts. 

Joseph smirks. 

Even all the caution in the world doesn’t prepare Robert. He doesn’t taste that the drink is off, he isn’t thinking about possible roofies, he’s thinking of how to best bring up that he thinks- no, that he knows Joseph is a murderer!

When Joseph finishes mixing the drink, he pours it into a decorative glass, handing it to Robert.    
  
He’s so nonchalant about it that Robert doesn’t give it a second thought, downing half the drink like it’s hard liquor, instead of the fruity drink they both know it is. 

It’s lighter. Much better than anything Robert would normally drink, and doesn’t burn his throat going down.

_ It tastes like apples. The same taste as Joseph’s lips- _

Robert swallows hard. 

That is...truly the last thing he wants to think about now. So instead he finishes the drink, all while Joseph watches seemingly impressed about how easy it is for Robert to knock’em back. 

“You wanted to talk?” Joseph repeats now, breaking the silence that had grown heavy between them. 

“Yeah.” 

That’s what Robert needed. Something to pull him from his thoughts of alcohol, and the past. 

Something solid. 

“I know…”

  
There’s no point in sugar coating it. He looks to Joseph’s face. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting to see there, or what he  **wants** to see. 

Instead he;s met with the face of oblivious confusion.

“You know?” Joseph continues, his expression turning to one of worry. 

“You know what?” 

Robert hates it. He hates that Joseph seems concerned. Seems like he cares. 

He knows it’s all fake. He knows this man is a monster. More than a monster, he’s a serial killer!

“I know what you did. To that man, to all those men, Joseph!” 

Joseph’s face doesn’t change. 

He doesn’t react. 

Robert feels angry.

He feels humiliated.

_ He sounds like he’s lost his mind.  _

But then he sees it, right as his limbs are beginning to feel like rubber, just as his vision starts to blur at the corners. 

He see’s Joseph’s expression devolve into a vicious looking smirk. 

“You know,” Robert can’t see him, he can’t speak, and he can’t move, but he can still hear. 

He can hear Joseph’s mocking tone of voice. 

“You really shouldn’t have downed that drink in one go. This all would have taken much longer to kick in, otherwise.”   
  
He was drugged. It’s an obvious enough realization, but Robert’s given no time to actually think about it as his body slips into unconsciousness.

The next few hours are an on and off haze for Robert. He comes too on and off, but it’s never enough for him to figure out where he is, or how long he’s been asleep. 

“-bert.”

A soft groan parts the man's dry lips, tongue immediately following suit to lick them in an attempt to ease the pain.    
  
“Robert, wake up.”

It’s Joseph’s voice, even like this Robert’s able to identify it, even if he doesn’t understand enough to be  _ afraid  _ yet. 

“There you go!” 

Joseph sounds cheerful, happy. 

Once again it’s enough to lull Robert’s drugged brain into a false sense of security. 

  
That and the soft gentle hand cupping his cheek, the soothing of a thumb rubbing calming circles against the flesh. 

“Robert.” His name leaves the pastors lips again, this time firmer.

It works. Or at least, the haze slowly starts to break at the same time as this firmer cause. 

Slowly but surely Robert is made aware of his surroundings; The smell of old wet brick, a cold chill that runs up his entire nude body, and finally the way he’s posed.

He’s like Christ himself, arms spread with the assistance of shackles, keeping Robert in place as if he were the next to be crucified. 

His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton but still he forces himself to speak. 

At first only getting out the other man’s name. 

“It’s a shame you know?”

Joseph has been talking this whole time. Monologing like a villain while walking back and forth between the short distance of Robert’s makeshift cross.

Whatever he’d said before was completely lost on Robert. He was far too busy coming to terms with his situation, his brain unable to even pick up what Joseph had been saying as background noise.

But now…

Now Joseph had Robert’s full attention. 

“I really-”

The man's movements seem erratic, jerky, inhuman, but they at least allow Robert to see the glint of something metal in Joseph’s hand. 

He assumes the worst, a knife, and he’s proven correct as the blonde turns, the knife extended towards Robert’s chin. 

“I’ve always liked you, you  _ know _ .”

Though Robert’s trying to keep his cool with the absolute deranged man coming at him with a knife, he can’t help but notice the absolute desperation in the others voice. 

It’s the weakest he’s ever heard Joseph. 

Somehow, he’d sounded stronger when ending their affair then he does now. 

“I didn’t want-”   
  
“You didn’t want what!?” He finally spits out, taking advantage of his unbound legs to try and kick at Joseph. 

It’s close. Only inches away. 

But the kick doesn’t land. 

Joseph is just out of reach. 

The bastard must have planned for it, planned for Robert reacting that way. 

All he can do is glare, huffing as he remains slouched and bound. 

The other man, Joseph, he doesn’t look phased or bothered at all by the sudden outburst, “As I was saying,”

He just continues as if he’d never been interrupted at all. But he takes a step forward, and although he’s now within kicking distance, Robert doesn’t dare.    
  
The blade is already pressed to his throat. 

“I didn’t want you to get involved with this.”

Robert swallows again, a small action to alleviate the rising panic, although it does little to comfort as the sensation of it causes his adam's apple to press more against the blade. 

“And what exactly  _ is  _ this, Joseph?” 

That causes Joseph to laugh, and it just makes Robert wish he’d remained silent. It was off, somehow, in a way so subtle that he couldn’t even begin to put his finger on. 

It was Joseph laughing, but...really it wasn’t. 

“I thought you knew? Didn’t you know? Weren’t you going to accuse me of it? Of Murder?” 

Robert doesn’t react, and it only makes Joseph laugh again, the hand not holding the knife, roughly gripping his face, making it impossible for Robert to look away. 

“I killed them. The last man, the one before him, and the family before that too. All of them.” 

A sickening, twisted smile takes Joseph’s fine, a smile so wide and tight it looks as if it should be causing the man physical pain. 

The grin, the laugh, it all leads Robert to wondering if this is even the  _ real  _ Joseph.

“Although, I suppose killing really isn’t the right word...I was...sacrificing them.” 

Robert doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know what to say, and although he has questions, he’s doubtful how truthful this thing will answer them. And even if he did decide to talk...He’s sure the firm grip on his face would make it hard to actually get out any words. 

More than that though, Robert becomes painfully aware of the knife, and the way it begins to trail from his through to his chest. 

Although the tip touches his bare skin, trails against it leaving goosebumps in its wake, it never actually breaks the skin. 

“But I don’t have to kill you.”

That’s the moment it really hits Robert. 

The full severity of the situation. 

Of course he knew-

How could he not know, naked, and tied that his life was on the line?

But it didn’t really come through until this moment. 

And suddenly he’s all too aware that he can’t die. 

He can’t die because there’s things he still needs to do, people he still needs to apologize too, amends that still need making. 

Robert becomes all too aware of how eager he is to be alive, and ashamed at just what he’d consider doing to stay that way. 

Joseph chuckles, deep and strange, and definitely not entirely his own sound. 

“That got your attention didn’t it?” 

The knife trails a gentle circle around Robert’s nipple, and he has to hold in a gasp. His dick twitches to life, and he tries to suppress it. 

If this were any other situation...maybe the knife play would be welcomed. 

“It takes...other sacrifices…” Joseph says, the lust dripping from his words is sin enough to tempt even the most faithful saint, “Sacrifices of the flesh.”

He’d leaned in, words and breath just inches away from Robert’s ear, and the man isn’t able to force away a half chub. 

“Join me.”    
  
Join…

Sacrifices of the flesh…

Sex. 

It was just sex. 

Not as if he was selling his soul. 

Robert doesn’t even get to answer before Joseph’s lips are roughly smothering his own. 

All the demon needed was a moment of hesitance, of consideration, and he snapped it up. 

The choice was no longer Robert’s to make. 

Even more emphasized by his position; chained naked by the arms, and his bare back pressed roughly against a makeshift cross in this basement tunnel. 

It hurts. 

Any noises of discomfort as his back is pressed, and scratched against the splinter-filled wood is interpreted as moans of pleasure, or maybe just completely disregarded by Joseph entirely. 

The fury of their kisses forces their teeth to clack together, and Robert feels drunk from it all, or maybe that’s the desperate lack of air. 

He’s dazed when Joseph pulls back, Robert’s bottom lip between two teeth. It’s hot at first...before it starts to hurt. 

Joseph’s teeth dig into his bottom lip until they draw blood, and then some. It’s the desperate attempts at freedom, the clanking of the chains keeping him bound that finally makes the other stop. 

His tongue sneaks out to lick the blood and saliva shared between them. 

It stains his normally perfect white teeth red. 

His choice-

Robert chose this for survival, but it seems like his bed partner is a wild animal. The relative idea of safety has been thrown out the window. 

“Scared?” 

His voice- No, not just the voice, Joseph as a whole seems to be...coming undone somehow. 

Sure the voice, despite the amused and spiteful town, seems to be trembling, but more than that his appearance was slowly becoming more disheveled. 

Joseph’s pupils are blown wide, his eyes no longer blue but a pure black instead, and below...the skin below his eyes are ever darkening circles, the skin seeming as if it’s beginning to hang loosely. 

“You don’t have to be. I’m not  _ that  _ cruel.”

Maybe he’s unaware of the fact Robert’s sizing him up?

Maybe he just doesn’t care?

Joseph is still fully dressed in his vestments, and he reaches inside the robes to pull out a bottle of holy water. 

“It won’t make the best lube but...beggars can’t be choosers, right?” 

Everything happens in a blink of an eye.

Joseph’s lips are on Robert’s once again, and he’s kissing the minister back until he feels a prodding of two large wet fingers at his hole. 

He tries to pull away from the kiss, just so he can tell Joseph to start with one. Sure he  _ could  _ take two, after all Robert’s actively uses his ass to masturbate, but that doesn’t mean it would feel good or even  _ comfortable _ . 

But it doesn’t matter. He’s not able to pull back or get away from Joseph. He’s trapped between the man and the wooden cross. Any attempt to move only presses the back of his head harder into the wood. Robert only stops when his head starts to throb from the pressure of it all. 

Both fingers force their way inside the other man, and any hiss of discomfort is quickly swallowed up by the other man's lips. 

It burns, Robert soon comes to realize, not the stretch of the fingers themselves no, but the lube.

The holy water Joseph was using as lube. 

Robert never considered himself a very religious man, but even he knew that wasn’t a good sign. 

He thrashes then. 

His feet find purchase in Joseph’s stomach, kicking the man back if only for a moment, because the next thing Robert knows he’s grabbed by the hair, head slammed forcefully into the cross. 

  
Robert’s eyes are clenched from the pain, but he hears the wood splinter apart more, and when Joseph gives another rough slam he feels it pierce his flesh, and the warmth of blood begins to flow past his ears. 

“I was being nice!” Joseph yells out. 

The outburst scares Robert into opening his eyes again, only to find Joseph has fallen apart more. 

His eyes are now completely black, even the sclera seems to have curdled black, becoming completely indistinguishable from his pupil. 

Is it Joseph?

A demon pretending to be Joseph?

Joseph possessed by a demon?

Robert doesn’t know.    
  
He doesn’t  _ care  _ at this point. 

His head is throbbing, he’s bleeding, and he’s completely lost feeling in his hands. 

At this point he’s ready to submit, if only to make things easier on himself. 

  
Robert isn’t stupid. A demon is far beyond anything he’s actually qualified to handle, especially with his hands bound like this. 

Although he holds his head low, and obvious sign of submission to the demon-to Joseph-to whoever that bastard in front of him is, he still watches from beneath his lashes as Joseph gets close again.

The gaze doesn’t break, even when his chin is lifted, and he’s forced to face Joseph. Robert doesn’t back down. It’s all he can do to show some sort of defiance. 

He’d survive.    
  
He’d…

He’d kill Joseph, after this, if he had to. 

He would. 

Brown eyes never daring to look away from that hypnotic black that seems to stare through him entirely. 

When their lips meet this time, it’s soft, it’s almost like things were before. 

Before the murders. 

Before the suspicion.

Before.

The softness is only a distraction though. A distraction from the shuffling of robes, or of the preparation of Joseph’s cock. 

Joseph figures he’s prepared Robert enough, but he still covers his length in the holy water for good measure, giving weak moans into Robert’s mouth at the burning sensation. 

“Joseph wait-” 

He doesn’t. 

It takes two thrusts before he’s fully sheathed inside of Robert, and despite some discomfort the man doesn’t seem to be in any actual pain. 

At first he stood still, forehead resting against that of the bound man, but then he turned instead to pressing more soft kisses. He doesn’t just kiss his lips, but his face, cheeks, forehead. 

It’s sweet.

In this situation, it’s jarring. 

And Robert finds himself disgusted. 

Not by Joseph.

Not by the sex, but at himself. 

He’s enjoying it. All of it. 

The kiss, the rough fucking, the splinters being forced deeper into his flesh as Joseph gets closer to hitting his prostate just right. 

He enjoys it  _ because  _ it’s Joseph.

And because it’s Joseph, he’d let him do anything. 

All of this is like some sick parody of his hottest, drunkest, most degenerate fantasies involving the other man. 

“We can be together.” 

Joseph says, hips thrusting into Robert’s own at a brutal pace. He’s practically using the hanging man as a ragdoll to fuck into, surprised though at how easily Robert seems to have come around. 

He even laughs when the other man willingly wraps his legs around Joseph’s waist. 

Robert shuts his eyes.

He doesn’t want to listen to Joseph talking. 

To listen to him lie. 

He just wants to focus on the pleasure. 

His own cock is painfully hard, but there’s no relief in sight. 

Robert can’t cum without actual stimulation, and while his own hands are currently hanging, Joseph seems to have no intentions on providing him any help either. 

So instead the organ stays, heavy and red, leaking precum onto the basement floor below. 

  
“Repeat after me; Forgive me father for I have sinned,” 

The words barely register in Robert’s mind, but when he doesn’t follow suit Joseph stills. The hands on his waist clench dangerously tight. 

Robert briefly wonders if Joseph could break his bones in such a hold. 

“Repeat it!” 

His whole body is once again slammed into the cross. All he can manage for a moment is a moan of pain and pleasure before he finally manages it.

“F-Forgive me,” It’s a pitiful start from trembling lips. 

“Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

The compliance is rewarded with a thrust of the hips, the tip of Joseph’s cock just barely brushing against Robert’s prostate.

Even the feathers light touch is enough to make the other man jolt forward with pleasure, cock continuing to ooze. 

“How long has it been since your last confession?” 

Joseph has started fucking him again. It’s slow, and careful. No longer hard and brutal. There’s already too much blood on the floor. 

Robert’s mind buzzes with urgency as he tries to find an acceptable answer, he’s desperate to continue feeling pleasure, at least that’s a form of escape from the physical pain and mental confusion. 

But realistically….   
  
“I don’t know.” 

Joseph tuts. 

“What a bad Christian you are, Robert Small.”

Despite his seeming disgust at Robert, at his lack of faith, he’s still fucking him, always teasingly close to Robert’s prostate, but never actually hitting it straight on. 

At least until Joseph himself cums. 

And when he cums it’s not with a moan, a curse, or a whisper of Robert’s name, no, he cums mumbling prayers and penance beneath his breath. 

“Forgive us father for we have sinned...Forgive us for both the sins we have committed here today, and the sins we will continue to commit.” 

Robert is too far out of it, especially when Joseph’s slick hand finally finds it’s way to his aching cock, to notice the difference cumming had made in Joseph. 

Any form of deterioration was gone now. You would have never guessed moments before he looked more like a puppet than a man, with dark hollowed eyes. 

Now he’s back. 

Prim and proper.

Joseph Christansen, the man next door. 

Nothing to worry about.

Nothing to fear. 

Sacrifice complete.

Ritual…

His thumb swipes over Robert’s cock head, smearing the precum he finds there. It won’t take long to make Robert cum, it never really has, not when somethings finally touching his weeping cock. 

Really Robert does all the work, allowing for his own demise, as his hips violently buck into Joseph’s cupped hand. He humps him like a dog in heat. 

It takes less than five minutes for Robert to cum, spilling uselessly into Joseph’s hand, all over his fingers. 

He’d moaned when he came, his whole body going stiff, head resting against the cross, his swear mixing with the blood now coating the wood. 

Despite the theatrics, the clearly powerful orgasm, Joseph didn’t miss it.

No, he very clearly saw the way Robert’s eyes went from brown to  _ all  _ black. 

Ritual Complete.


End file.
